Page 70 of Savage Truce

Rising to my feet, I call out, “Pap, would you like something to drink?”

He pauses and links his hands behind his back while shaking his head. “No, thank you, milaya.”

Walking to the back door, I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. When I enter the kitchen and see the women peeling potatoes, my body tenses and my heart jerks in my chest.

‘Faster, Tolstukha! We hungry,’ Bogdan barks.

The guard who always watches me chuckles darkly, ‘If we cut off piece, lose weight fast.’

Others laugh, and as they come into the kitchen, terror makes me tremble too much to work faster.

“Rodian!” I hear a woman scream, panic making her voice shrill, but it becomes one with the memory.

One of the men saunters closer, and picking up a carrot, he waves it under my nose before smacking me in the face with it. Everyone laughs again, and when I just keep peeling, he rears his arm back and punches me in the side.

Air whooshes from my lungs as searing pain tears through me.

The second I fall to the floor, they all cheer, and just as the man grips the front of my blouse to hit me again, Bogdan barks, ‘Enough. She must cook. Beat her later.’

Something is pushed into my mouth, yanking me out of the memory. Slowly, I become aware of my surroundings while my heart beats a mile a minute.

When my sight focuses on Rodian, he says, “That’s it, Moya Krasavitsa. Come back to me.” He brushes his hand over my hair in soothing movements and presses his mouth to my forehead. “You’re safe. I have you.”

I feel someone patting my back, then Artem coos, “Shh… Shh… Shh...”

Glancing around the kitchen, I’m met with the worried faces of my new family.

Rodian bends, and hooking one arm behind my knees and the other around my back, he lifts me bridal-style. His familiar scent registers, and I press my face into the crook of his neck.

When he sits down with me on his lap and I lift my head, I see we’re in our bedroom. He holds me tightly, tenderly rocking me, and presses his mouth to my forehead again.

I have no idea how long we sit like this, but it helps so much, and I soak up all the comfort he’s giving me like a dry sponge.

“Better?” he asks, his tone gentle.

Nodding, I pull back. “A lot.”

He takes hold of my left hand, and seeing the dirt, he stands up with me in his arms and carries me into the bathroom, where I’m placed on the counter.

When he begins to clean the sand from under my nails, a smile tugs at my mouth. I stare at my husband as he takes care of me, feeling unbelievably lucky.

“You have to wear gloves if you’re going to work in the garden,” he orders in his no-nonsense tone.

Rodian even puts lotion on my hands, and once he’s done, I whisper, “Thank you, my love.”

He cups my cheek and searches my face. “What happened?”

“When I walked into the kitchen, your mom and aunt were peeling potatoes and…” I shrug. “It brought back a memory.”

Tilting his head, he asks, “Want to talk to me about it? It can’t be good bottling it all up.”

“I don’t want to burden you with my issues.”

He braces a hand on either side of my butt and looks me dead in the eye with one of his brutal expressions that commands all my attention.

“You don’t have issues. You are dealing with severe fucking PTSD, Anastasia. Surprisingly well, may I add. And let me make myself very clear. You can never burden me. Let me help you in whatever way I can.” His eyebrows draw together. “Your mental health is just as important to me as your physical safety.”

I’ve never loved anything as much as I love Rodian in this moment, and it gives me the strength to say, “It was a memory of when I was peeling potatoes. Bogdan was shouting at me to work faster, and the guard who always kept an eye on me threatened to cut off pieces of me. It made the others laugh, and they all came into the kitchen, then one of the men hit me.” Once I’m done recounting that part, I continue, “After they ate, that man made me crawl through the night, and whenever I collapsed, he would kick me until I started crawling again.”